Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 154(@200wpm)___ 123(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
With that, I scurry towards the door before shooting one last backwards glance at the scene of the crime. Nothing looks amiss. The chandelier dangles, sparkling lights bouncing about because there are so many crystals dripping from the wire frame that the missing gems are undetectable. The table is still and unmoving with chairs placed in neatly spaced intervals around it. Otherwise, the room is silent and dark, with nothing amiss. Taking a deep breath, I exit the room before beginning a casual stroll out of the hotel. I just committed the perfect crime without anyone witnessing my misdeeds ... or at least, I think.
3
Patrick
What the fuck did I see yesterday? What the hell was that about?
Then again, the blonde goddess’s private session in the high rollers room certainly piqued my interest. Fuck, my cock was as stiff as iron the entire time, watching her fuck her snatch with a laser pointer before stuffing her holes full of diamonds. I was aware that prisoners use their bodily passages as stowaway compartments for contraband, but I had no idea that beautiful young women with voluptuous curves did the same.
Still, I quickly intuited why the blonde was there. She tiptoed into the room, as silent as a mouse, before casing the joint. I know a competitive poker player when I see one, and the woman definitely fit the bill. No, she wasn’t a hardened old man with black sunglasses and graying stubble. Instead, she was a voluptuous young filly with dainty features and an innocent smile, but those are the ones that always get you. You think they’re going left, but they’re going right. You think you’ve locked down their tells, but then a rabbit’s pulled out of a hat, and you’re left with your dick on the chopping block. It’s clear she has a game coming up at the Degas. The question is: how will I get in on that hand?
The problem was almost too easily solved, and yes, you guessed it. I made a call to Corinne at the designer boutique and the saleslady almost fell over herself to be accommodating.
“Oh yes, the Degas hosts invitation-only tables once a month,” she purred. “Minimum buy-in is a hundred thousand. Are you looking for a seat, Mr. O’Lachlan?”
“I am,” I confirmed. “Set it up. As soon as possible.”
Corinne practically meowed with anticipation.
“Of course, Mr. O’Lachlan. And can I say how lovely your sister was the other day? Miss O’Lachlan walked out with five of our latest handbags, and I know she can’t wait to show them off to her friends.”
I silently cursed Ainsley because who the fuck spends so much on purses when there are people dying of hunger on the streets? But I gritted my teeth because this was not the time.
“I’m sure my sister loves her purchases. My secretary will be in touch, and thank you again, Corinne,” I spoke in a courteous tone. “I appreciate your help.” I was just about to hang up when the saleslady hurriedly spoke once more. “Mr. O’Lachlan,” she rushed. “Can I offer some advice?”
No, you greedy bitch, you can’t, the voice in my head growled. But I grimaced and nodded.
“Yes, of course.”
The middle-aged woman practically shimmied with delight. I could sense it, even if I couldn’t see it over the phone.
“Some of the men bring dates to these events and let’s just say ... I, ah, would be more than happy to be your date. In fact, I would love it,” she simpered. “Working at this boutique gives me access to the latest designer fashions and jewelry, so have no fear, Mr. O’Lachlan. I won’t embarrass you. In fact, I’d say with some certainty that you’ll be proud to have me on your arm.”
Internally, I cringed. Was this woman shitting me? With her stiff blonde helmet of hair, and the garish red lipstick? With her brittle nails disguised under gels, and clawed, veiny hands? But it wasn’t even the middle-aged woman’s looks per se. It was her grasping, rapacious ways, and her sheer desperation to find a rich man to provide her with a rich life. My stomach literally heaved with disgust.
Besides, I have plans up the sleeve for my event at the Degas, and they included a particularly beautiful young woman who has no idea I exist.
“No thanks,” I said in a cool tone. “But I’ll make sure you’re compensated handsomely for your trouble. Thank you again.”
With that, I hung up before Corinne could speak again, relieved to be off the phone. What the hell? Some women have no idea that appearing greedy and money-hungry only drives rich men away, and not towards them.
But now, I’m at the Degas for my rendezvous with the beautiful mystery blonde. It’s a balmy Saturday night, and when I step out of my black car, a warm evening breeze hits my features.